


Putting On a Show

by tigerlady (shetiger)



Category: NCIS
Genre: Episode Related, Established Relationship, M/M, Semipublic Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-20
Updated: 2010-10-20
Packaged: 2017-10-12 19:40:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shetiger/pseuds/tigerlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim and Tony have a talk in the car. Missing scene from 8.05 Dead Air. (AKA why exactly is Tony's throat so sore?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Putting On a Show

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to annundriel for looking this over.

Tony didn't need the long, silent car ride to tell him he was in trouble. He knew that pretty much right after the words 'shared a bed with' left his lips. But it wasn't until Tim slid the gear shift into park and then just sat there, staring at the flat gray of the concrete wall in front of him, that Tony realized how much trouble he was in.

The thing was, he wasn't sure how exactly he meant that in his head. Because yeah, Tim was pissed, obviously, but more than that, Tony was pissed at himself. No matter how many times he told himself things would be different, one thing would lead to another, he'd open his mouth--and stupid would come out.

"Look, I know that sounded bad," he said, and Tim's eyebrow was already marching up his forehead. Tony grimaced and tried to have faith that somehow he'd find his way past stupid, like he occasionally managed to do. "But I'm not hung up on Ziva or anything. I'm _not_ ," he added when Tim rolled his eyes. "I mean, sure, she's still hot, and I'd have to be blind not to appreciate that fact--"

"Not helping, DiNozzo."

Tony winced. _DiNozzo._ Not good at all. He cleared his throat, then cleared it again when it didn't get rid of the tickle. "Look," he said, and hey, the rasp made him sound kind of pathetic. At least that was one thing going his direction. "I was just trying to say that things have changed. Ziva's changed. She used to be all, hey, look at me, I'm a sexy, sex-ay, Mossad assassin. Now she's all NCIS professional, even when she's trying to be old-Ziva."

Tim pressed his lips together hard, like he did when he didn't want to give in on something. Tony had just a few seconds to appreciate the way it pooched up his cheeks adorably before Tim sighed, his face relaxing with his breath. "Okay, you have a point."

"Thank you! Was that really so hard to admit?"

Tony's triumph died a quick, steaming death as Tim twisted sideways in the seat, bringing his arm up over the steering wheel so he could fully deploy one of his special looks. One of the _I don't understand how you're so stupid_ looks. Tony cleared his throat again and tried to look particularly pathetic, but it didn't seem to help.

"I guess not," Tim said. "Once I'd thought about it. So tell me, Tony, why couldn't you answer my question about you two putting on a show?"

A small whine escaped the back of his throat. Tony tried to tell himself it was related to the throat thing. "Yeah," he said. "That."

"That, what?"

Tony opened his mouth. That was as far as he got.

Tim sighed again, then rubbed his forehead. "Look, Tony. Just tell me the truth, okay? It makes it a lot easier to trust you in the long run."

"It wasn't a show," burst out of him, like a bullet out of a gun held by a guy with an itchy trigger finger. Badly aimed, it didn't end up where he intended at all, but oh, it definitely inflicted damage. Tim twisted back around and reached for the door handle. Tony caught him by the sleeve. "Will you just wait a minute? It's not like you think at all."

Tim stopped trying to get out of the car, but his arm was tense as iron under Tony's hand. "Did you have sex with her?"

"No!"

Tim raised both eyebrows. "Did you want to?"

"Well, yeah." Tony scoffed. "What kind of question is that? We were mostly naked, acting like we were lovers. Of course I wanted to have sex with her."

"So why didn't you?" Tim asked, and he actually seemed more curious than angry.

Tony shrugged. "You think Ziva would have gone there?"

"Yeah, Tony. Yeah, I do." Tony started to shake his head, but Tim rolled his eyes again. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you haven't noticed how hot she is for you."

That made his throat tickle again. "Maybe that's why I didn't," he said, although that wasn't the complete truth, either. "It wasn't about having sex. It was..." He trailed off as the light bulb came on. It made sense to him, now, but he wasn't sure if he could ever explain it to Tim in a way he'd understand.

"Wanting what you couldn't get?" Tim prompted. "And if you knew you could get it, you didn't want it?"

Tony shook his head, and then changed it to a nod. "Well, maybe a little. But sleeping with Ziva would have been a bad idea. Even I'm not that stupid."

Tim snorted. "You do have your moments of awareness."

Tony nodded. He could have left it at that, because Tim had relaxed, enough that Tony knew that the stuff he'd said about Ziva wasn't going to be an issue between them anymore. But... "I had one just now."

Tim cocked his head to the side. "About?"

"Why I keep thinking back to going undercover with her. Even when--" he gestured between the two of them, hoping that was concrete enough for the moment. "It's not about Ziva."

Tim blinked. "So what's it about, then?"

"Riding the edge. The chase. The way doing something you're not supposed to is almost more exciting than sex." Even as he said the words, he could feel the zing in his blood, the zang as his heart remembered all the fun in the past. "It's the adrenaline of it all, baby."

"Right," Tim said flatly. "Of course. That explains so much, Tony."

"Wait. Explains what?"

Tim rolled his eyes. _Again._ "How many people you've slept with, for one. And where this relationship is going, for another. Just...do me a favor, okay? Give me a little warning before you get bored."

A different kind of adrenaline sent his heart hammering. Or maybe it was the same kind of adrenaline--Ducky would know, but Tony really didn't feel like asking. Same kind of adrenaline or not, it felt a hell of a lot more potent. Not fun at all. "I'm not going to get bored, Tim. I love you."

Tim flushed. Normally Tony loved that, but right now he wasn't sure if it was a flush of sweet embarrassment or that of gonna-kick-your-ass anger.

"More than you love the chase?"

"Uh, yeah. _Duh._ " Then he slapped Tim on the back of the head, because honestly, _duh_. "I thought you were smart."

Tim dropped his gaze, and oh, hi, there was the timid, uncertain McGeek of old. Tony sighed, then slapped himself on the back of the head. It got the reaction he wanted, Tim looking up again with a small smile, but it also had the side effect of stirring up the tickle in the back of this throat. Tony coughed a couple of times, and by the time his throat was clear, Tim looked more like his partner again.

"I just hate the thought that I can't give you what you need," Tim said, still looking mopey around the eyes.

"How do you figure that?"

"Uh, in case you missed it, you already caught me." Tim's smile was full of good memories. "No chase anymore. _Duh._ "

Tony wrapped his hand around the back of Tim's neck and leaned in close. "In case you missed it, the chase wasn't the end-all, be-all of what I was talking about."

Tim's eyebrows crinkled with confusion. Clearing that up was going to be a lot of fun.

"It's the easiest way to get the zing, sure. But not the only way. I mean, that thing with Ziva wouldn't have been half as fun without the cameras." Tony dropped his free hand to Tim's lap, grinning at the way Tim's eyes widened.

"Did I mention I was sorry? Because I am," he said, reaching down to find the lever under the driver's seat. He almost smacked his ear on the steering wheel, but Tim didn't seem to notice the lack of smoothness. He just kept staring as Tony reached for his belt. "I should really make it up to you, don't you think?"

Tim's Adam's apple jerked wildly several times. "Not here, Tony. What if somebody sees?"

"That's the point, isn't it?" He had Tim's pants open now. Tim wasn't all the way hard yet, but he was definitely getting there.

"We're already late. Gibbs is going to--"

"Rule Number Three, McGee," Tony said, glaring up at him before going back to work on getting Tim's cock out the flap in his boxers.

"We're not technically in bed-- Oh, God. _Tony._ "

Tony smiled around Tim's cock and didn't bother to try to answer him. The less time spent thinking about Gibbs catching them, the better. That was the point of Rule Number Three. Instead he concentrated on the taste of Tim, the feel of him in his mouth. The thrill of knowing that anyone could walk by the car any second and see Tony with his face buried in Tim's lap.

Oh, yeah. This was definitely doing it for him. He was hard, but not unbearably so. It was the exhilaration, more than anything. The zing and the zang that came with Tim clutching at Tony's shoulder. Tim was moaning now, high and in the back of his throat, like he did when he was really close. Tony chuckled; he wasn't the only one who liked a little adrenaline in his sex.

"Oh, fuck," Tim said. He let go of Tony's shoulder and grabbed at the back of Tony's head instead, holding him in place as his hips strained upwards. Tony breathed through it, taking as much as he could and then swallowing fast as Tim came with a harsh groan. Tony made sure he had it all, that Tim was well into his afterglow--and then he pulled off, collapsed back onto his side of the car, and coughed until tears gathered in his eyes.

"You okay?" Tim mumbled out.

"Peachy," Tony croaked.

"I think there's a bottle of water under your seat."

The famous McGeek memory was blessedly unhindered by orgasm. Tony fished out the bottle and drained half of it without pausing for breath, then sipped his way through the rest. By the time he was finished, Tim was put back together.

"You, uh, want me to," he said, waving at Tony's groin while pretending he wasn't turning a shade from the tomato family.

Tony grinned. "Later," he said, and damn, he needed another drink. "Maybe we can talk about instant replay technology some more."

Tim's eyebrows shot up as he got it. "How did I not know you were this kinky?"

Tony shrugged before he reached for the car door. "Find out something new everyday. Guess that way we'll never get bored, huh?"

Tim grinned at him. "Oh, you are going to be so far from bored..."

"Looking forward to it." They opened the doors at the same time. Tony took a moment to glance down at his watch. Gibbs really was going to kill them if they didn't get up there soon.

"Hey, Tony," Tim called.

Tony looked up just in time to see a small something fly over the car roof and towards his head. He snagged it out of the air--and snorted when he saw what it was.

"You really are a Boy Scout," he said, and dropped the breath mints into his pocket.

END


End file.
